So my friend Brian did a bunch of casual headshots of me- and a ton of them look like standard photos of me, I know how I photograph best… But this one was just a silly unexpected one, and we both wound up loving it.
And that’s one of the things I love about Brian, and working with Brian- be brings out some of the silly in me that I might be afraid of sometimes.
I had a great time with my mom- seeing my cousin, his wife, daughter- and mother in law. It was a little mini family reunion, and it was absolutely lovely. We saw Mary Poppins on Broadway, and as much as I joked about seeing it- I really loved it. I forgot how much I love Mary Poppins, and seeing big live shows.
Uh, flying there and getting home was so horridly arduous that I’m practically afraid to talk about it anymore, because the more I talk it out, the more I feel it imprinting into me and making me feel like this sour unhappy person.
Basically: Friday- 6 am flight: up at 4am- at the airport by 5- find out the flight is pushed back to 11. But I need to ‘hang out’ in case they ‘fix it’ and are ready to go. But the thing of it is- (my mother found out from an off duty employee she was chatting with while she was waiting for me to land in NY) there was no mechanical error- nothing to fix, no reason to wait at the airport. That thing wasn’t going anywhere before 11. They overbooked it.
Today- Monday- There was a bunch of hubub, I had to make a connecting flight in Boston- originally not an issue, actually I was dreading a 2 hour layover… Well the NY flight is delayed- so much so that I’m concerned about making the connection… I get swapped to a direct to Raleigh flight. Yahoo- it’s only 15 minutes behind- which is practically on time in my book, good as gold, I’m gonna be home even earlier than I thought. But then. They put us on the plane, pull away from the gate. Then tell us we have to wait for our turn to take off. 40 minutes. Well 40 minutes turns into nearly 2 hours. Just chilling out on the runway.
I’m gonna climb into my bed now.
I bought a jar of those with that same intention. Turns out, three is the most of those things I wanna east at a time.
OK. so Story time. My blood sugar dropped the other night, so much so that I wound up sitting in front of (partially IN) the refrigerator just eating, and nearly crying because I was eating carbohydrates and not feeling better and being scared that I wasn’t feeling better- and what happens next, do I wake my dad up, do I go to the hospital? What happens then? Dad said if I have ‘an incident’ he can’t handle it and I have to go back to NY and live with mom, omg omg I can’t handle this. ETC.
I digress. So I’m eating, and eating. I have a couple of greek yogurts, some milk, I vaguely remember some strawberry cider… AND THEN. THEN I see the jar of maraschino cherries. My dad keeps some on hand in case he feels fancy and wants to make whiskey sours (which he is very good at btw). So I open the jar. I fish out a couple. That makes my fingers sticky, which is off putting. I think, ok, I’ll just drink the cherry juice. I do that, and then sort of drink-eat all of the rest of the cherries in the jar as well.
LOW BLOOD SUGAR LOGIC.
Ok, so we’re gonna be grounded, try to play characters as close to yourself as possible. No animals. Ok, Kim, you can be a lamp in one scene. But it has to be a walk on.Shane, at Lordington P.I. practice
First show playing on an Improv SLAM team. Amazing audience. Fantastic games, so much fun. Red squad didn’t win- but we totally killed it. It was a close game, and I’m so so happy with how tonight went.
14 years with diabetes.
Couldn’t kill me that day, still going strong today.
HAPPY KATIE’S NOT DEAD DAY!
In wandering around my apartment, trying to accomplish various tasks, I put my phone down somewhere.
In the course of my various tasks, I started a load of laundry.
I then realized I had no idea where my phone was.
I searched the normal places I’m known to put it absentmindedly. Not there.
I flung open the washing machine, hoping if nothing else to find the phone and acknowledge that I had destroyed it in a moment of colossal idiocy. Not there?
I think to myself- I’ll call it.
No wait, I don’t have a phone. I don’t have a land line, and no one else is here with me. I have no way to contact anyone without leaving my home. And if I leave my home- I have few options to contact someone/anyone. I can try to find a pay phone (do we still have those around here?) or go to work and ask to use the phone.
BUT WAIT- the internet! I haven’t tried the internet!
Gmail offers a phone calling service, thing. I call my phone, praying to hear the ring. I don’t. My heart sinks. I ‘hang up’ the gmail phone, and- WAIT- did I just hear the “you missed a call” sound my phone makes? REDIAL GMAIL- POST HASTE!
I set the internet ‘phone’ to call again, and run around my room until I can hear the ringtone. I CAN HEAR THE RING TONE!
Phone found. Not in washing machine.
Just a bit of unhealthy, avoidable stress. Monday stuff.
